


That's Where We Wanna Go

by ElectricKettle (DaLaRi)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Introspection, M/M, To Be Edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23077168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaLaRi/pseuds/ElectricKettle
Summary: Thomas and James, lounging happily in a little boat.postcanon, fluff
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	That's Where We Wanna Go

there was a sandbar island not too far from nassau. it was a tricky bit of ocean, thomas had learned through conversation, mostly because of the amount of ocean you had to cross before the water got shallow enough for the necessity of taking a rowboat to become clear. but as he lounges with james, who had stripped to the waist in the heat of the day with the long stretches of rowing that they had done, he thinks, about how much it’s worth it. it feels like the good of the last ten years to him. the stretch of physical labor under his skin, not enough to tax him but enough for him to remember he’s alive, warm sun on his skin, distance, alertness, and the ability to enjoy peace simply because of the fact that it will end. he feels not like a pale imitation of a lord hamilton, he feels like the best of what he’s been this past ten years. and as he stretches, cooling his palms in the water, he watches as james’s eyes scan him appreciatively, and he knows that james reads the ease in him. there’s a hunger in james’s eyes that he seems happy to let be for now, but it lends a sort of playfulness to the peace that they have. thomas has a sketchpad, and james has a half-whittled thing, and together they are sitting trying to make something out of nothing. thomas’s charcoal pencil breaks early, and he stretches out in the rowboat as it rocks gently. the sky is enormous and blue, a deeper blue than in savannah and taller, too, than any sky he had ever been under. james is whittling thoughtfully, but his foot taps a happy rhythm on the bottom of the boat that thomas starts to whistle along to, a half-tuneless thing that meanders along with the scrape of the knife. james finishes what he’s doing and tucks both wood and knife away, and then just looks at thomas. he reaches out, tugs on thomas’s hand.

thomas goes easily, willingly. he leans into james’s space carelessly, the first brush as their beards meet curling a grin across his face as james’s hunger has his hand curling at thomas’s nape, pulling him in, thumb gently braced against the side of his neck. thomas sighs into the kiss, and in the moment after where they sit, gently rocking with the boat, foreheads pressed together, thomas finds himself full of peace. it is easy, and as they both lean back, thomas disentangling his hand so he can continue trailing fingertips into the water, beginning to whistle again as james pulls out his whittling and wood-knife, he thinks that if love never was difficult again for them two, he would think the world’s penance enough.


End file.
